


a head full of drought

by ElasticElla



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22298962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: “Do you think we’re ready?” Cahir asks, running a whetstone over his blade.Fringilla nearly says yes. But she remembers a hunchback from long ago, that was always favored even though she never showed remarkable power.“One last trip. Call it a curiosity.”
Relationships: Yennefer of Vengerberg/Fringilla Vigo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31
Collections: Ladies Bingo 2019





	a head full of drought

**Author's Note:**

> title from sneaker pimp's 6 underground

Yennefer does not wish to get out of bed. The surrounding city and castle has no cares for her bleak mood, already loudly going about the day with children screaming and bells chiming. She glares up at the ceiling, trying to summon some motivation. 

The usual royal asskissing has been replaced with a visit from Fringilla, and that can’t bode well. It’s been decades since Yennefer stole the Aedirn post back from her, and at least Aedirn wine is fine, excellent for drowning the boredom. The same can’t be said for the Nilfgaardian piss they call ale, and Fringilla must hold a grudge. She’ll have a dozen bottles prepared as a gift, it’s the very least she can do. 

The older she gets, the more inconsequential riches are. Her fortune has grown faster than she cares to spend it, only needs so many splendid dresses. And surrounded by rich fools, it isn’t hard to amass more of anything, everything. 

The blue room is set up to receive Fringilla, a long table of finger foods and jugs of wine. A simple display of wasteful splendor, far more food than any two people could possibly eat. Offensive without doubt, if one considers the Nilfgaardian famine, not that Fringilla would need more reason beyond their past. The king is dealing with a trade delegation from Cintra, and it’s best if the pet mage isn’t around for that. 

Fringilla enters, and Yennefer forgets to breathe. The woman before her looks nothing like the meek girl she once knew, eyes alight and hair cropped short. 

“Nilfgaard suits you,” Yennefer greets and Fringilla smiles. 

“I wish I could say the same for you and Aedirn.” 

Yennefer straightens her spine, “Sit, you must be hungry.” 

Fringilla shrugs, eyes wandering over the room. “There are few things I hunger for these days.” 

Goosebumps trickle down her neck, and Yennefer grabs a glass of wine. “What then?” 

“Power of course.” 

Yennefer nearly laughs, but Fringilla’s expression is firm. “You came here. Why would you come here of all places?” 

“To show you. You can still fix the mistake you made all those years ago,” Fringilla says, extending her hands. “May I?”

Yennefer bristles, but curiosity gets the best of her. She throws back the rest of her wine without tasting it, “Go on.” 

Fringilla’s fingertips are warm on her temples, and she closes her eyes, flashes of memory springing from them.

“Imagine magic unleashed. No rules, no boundaries. Where you can truly discover all you can be…” 

She watches Fringilla play with fire magic, watches her take the life from one girl and reawaken the dead, watches her do feats they were taught impossible. How the chaos grows within Fringilla, how she’s truly become a force. 

Her fingertips fall away, and Yennefer opens her eyes slowly, Fringilla half a breath away. 

“Don’t you want to do more than play court jester? Don’t you want to be more?”

Fringilla whispers softly to her mind, _be more with me_.

“Yes,” Yennefer says, sweet blasphemy. She’s done with cleaning up political messes, done with the brotherhood, done with this unsatisfactory gilded life. 

“You will be the flame,” Fringilla murmurs against her lips, magic crackling between them. And Yennefer doesn’t have a spare thought to parse that with, for Fringilla leans in, kissing her soundly.


End file.
